


Crystal

by StringTheori



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Cecil is a good Dom, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kink, M/M, breath play, but not really, dom!Cecil, kind of public sex?, movement control, positive celios fic drive, sex positivity, sorta - Freeform, sub!Carlos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StringTheori/pseuds/StringTheori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP - Carlos surprises Cecil one morning with a ribbon as a gift and Cecil is more than happy to partake. Established kink relationship complete with safe words/actions and aftercare</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystal

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while back but only got to typing it back as a part of the Positive Celios Fic Drive. It is spell check'd and otherwise done without a look through or a beta, so I apologize for typos or silliness. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: There is breath play in this along with deep-throating, sub drop, and physical restraint.

Cecil enjoys the chase. He is a reporter at heart and that reporter so loves to fight for the story, the real grit and bones of a thing. Usually he wants something simple, such as a new chair for his office or why some people garnered special permission from the City Council in order to use writing implements. They were all still allowed computers, sure, but Cecil missed the smooth flow of thick ink in a good pen. Cecil has excellent script, in his humble opinion. Once he fought for a raise with Station Management. He still considers it a bright spot in his dark career – he left with only bruises and a broken index finger.

It is the thrill of it all. The simple wants send spikes of triumph through him but they fade much too quickly. Cecil continues to scramble for more in the form of Subways or –

No, not the condos.

Cecil took no thrill in jumping into that black cube and facing perfection and everlasting goodness. He thought only of his Carlos and the stupid, darling things that make him so beautiful. Cecil knows that Carlos is no win, that he is not a thing that Cecil fought for to keep for himself and gain a rush. Carlos is not his trophy, no matter what a certain conspiracy theorist may e-mail to Cecil on a daily basis. Cecil never manipulated him. The brave and brilliant scientist ignored the declarations of infatuation and made his own moves only once Cecil stopped in his clumsy attempts to woo.

Carlos _wants_ him. Cecil sees the love and desire in those dark gray eyes every time he sees them. Each brush of fingers to his knuckles and rambling speech about science and beauty and how Cecil has excellent angles screams of love. When Carlos says “Cecil, your molecules are wonderful” what he means is “I love you.”

It’s so real, after all. Not many things in the universe are real, not even time or planes of existence, but Carlos and his love are solid and steady and belong to Cecil’s cold, dark heart. Cecil wants to keep them all for him, perhaps sharing occasionally with his cat. He talks less about Them on air and keeps his words private to Carlos and Old Woman Josie. It sometimes all he can do to not hold Carlos tight enough to crush his ribs.

Cecil also knows that Carlos enjoys it when Cecil stops caring about the maybes.

The morning Cecil wakes up with a strand of nut brown hair stuck on his upper lip, he opens his eyes to see Carlos stretching out on the window seat. Carlos wears nothing but a burgundy ribbon around the thick column of his throat and the shadows of their mint green curtains. The ends of the ribbon dangle just below one dark nipple, frayed from previous use as a gag against his beautifully noisy Carlos.

“I’m not sure if I’m awake.” Cecil yawns into his pillow and nearly inhales the curl that still lay by his nose. Cecil coughs and rubs at his eyes with the back of one hand. “My Carlos sleeps in Tetris boxers.”

Carlos grins. “Oooh, baby, you attract my love like an atom and a microscope?” Cecil snickers. “What’s your resonance frequency? Top quark or bott--”

Cecil throws a pillow at him, laughing. “Stop, stop, no trying to F5 those outdated pick up lines.”

"Talk nerdy to me.” Carlos wiggles his eyebrows. Cecil loses it completely, doubling over for a short moment with giggles. Carlos grins even more, though it turns to a sharp bark of laughter when Cecil jumps from the bed. Cecil flails in the most ungainly manner, almost tripping over his own feet and the burnished orange comforter. Carlos dissolves into giggles with Cecil instead of at him, even with the half hearted attempt to escape. The scientist squirms and then goes tight hold of Cecil’s long hands. “Ahhh, I am caught. Help. Help.”

Cecil grabs the ends of the ribbon, fraying and thin as his own palms. “You’re _mine."_ ”

It’s true, never truer as it is when Carlos whimpers and tilts his head back. Cecil grins using more teeth then the situation technically requires,

Carlos moans first when Cecil pulls the ribbon tight over his neck. The beautiful scientist’s skin gives easily, his flesh barely plumped over the seams. He has time enough to gasp: “Crystal.”

Cecil pulls tighter and shoves the larger man back onto the window seat. Carlos grabs the curtains, already desperate for the clawing, biting, ruthless love. Cecil fists both ends of the ribbon in his left hand - the right jerks the curtain completely open. The crisp morning sunlight pours in. Carlos arches into the glare of outside, splaying thick muscular legs and grasping fingers.

“If anyone walks by they’ll see you,” Cecil murmurs. He shifts to give Carlos room to stretch. A twinge of pain against the window goes unnoticed - Cecil is too busy settling onto his wide lovers shuddering soft stomach. “You’re wrapped up so nicely for me, Carlos. It’s almost a shame for someone else to see me open you up--” Cecil loosens his hold on the ribbon and basks in the desperate gasps. “--We all know I don’t like to show how much I enjoy unwrapping you.”

“Sorry.” Carlos says, his eyes half closed in bliss. And then, in a hungry whine: “Crystal.”

“Only if you are very good.” Carlos opens his mouth to protest. Cecil has heard the begging before, their code for ‘fuck yes; I love this’ flowing from Carlos’ lips when the scientist knows his mouth ought to be otherwise busy. Cecil doesn’t give him the chance this morning. He shoves three fingers deep into Carlos’ throat.

Carlos’ muscles convulse around Cecil’s digits. Full dark lips fold back to shield Cecil from the teeth despite Carlos’ immediate gag reflex. Cecil hums while Carlos struggles to keep him in, tongue wet and sloppy on the underside of Cecil’s fingers.

“That’s my good boy.” Cecil pushes deeper and pulls the ribbon again. Carlos whines around him, his eyelashes fluttering. Cecil loves to see his awkward stoic boyfriend trust him like this. He needs these sounds like a man deprived of water being faced with wine.  “I’m going to open you up so nice, love. My beautiful Carlos, you’ll be so taken care of. I want you gaping for me. I want you choking in that way we both so love.”

He hears another whine and feels the unconscious twitch of Carlos’ hips up. Cecil curls his fingers and forces Carlos’ tongue down. Carlos’ throat convulses and his eyes water, but he doesn’t gag.

“Think you can take me fucking your face, baby?” Carlos jerks under Cecil, his throat squeezing again. Cecil smiles and shifts back to rub against Carlos’ cock. “I know we’ve been trying and you are _so good_ with it. You learn so fast.”

Carlos says nothing. He lies immobile save for the fine trembles of his frame under Cecil. Cecil squeezes and Carlos closes his eyes.

“Suck on my fingers if you want to try, love--” Carlos jerks his head to swallow Cecil’s fingers to the last knuckle. The scientist sucks hard enough to hollow his round cheeks and the noises he makes curl around Cecil’s mind in delight. Cecil hisses and pulls his hand away. He grabs Carlos’ hair and uses the curls to pin his darlings head to the windowsill seat. The other squeezes Carlos’ jaws tight enough to pry his mouth open to the fullest he can manager. “You’re not to move, Carlo, my most darling. No sucking or licking without permission. I’m going to take your mouth and use it. Lie still. Move only to opt out. Understand?”

Glazed eyes stare up at him, lips slack and ready. Carlos taps Cecil’s leg three times. ‘Yes’.

“What is ‘slow down’, lovely?” Carlos squeezes Cecil’s leg hard enough to bruise. “What is ‘stop’?” The squeeze turns to the sharp bite and drag of nails across the flesh of his thigh. Cecil whispers “Such a brilliant man.” and moves forward to settle himself on Carlos’ collarbone. Cecil is careful to note put too much weight on him, especially while he slides the tip of his cock between his lovers’ lips.

Carlos’ eyes flutter, his mouth slick and wide around Cecil. Cecil has to release Carlos’ jaw to keep upright and takes the opportunity to cup the back of the curly haired head. Each erratic breath sings through Cecil as surely as the moan from his Carlos. The man in question remains still as the moonlight night about the bloodstones, flaring his nostrils at every slow thrust.

Cecil takes his time. Each push is deeper then the last, a gradual relaxing of Carlos’ mouth and throat.  Cecil holds Carlos’ head still, long fingers tight. They flex in time with his hips and he revels in the control his strong Carlos gives him - the control they both need so. Through it, Cecil whispers praise - a litany of ‘fuck  I love your mouth, your eyes, look at me, just like that.’ Carlos whimpers, the sound muffled with two thirds of Cecil’s cock stretching full lips wide. Cecil hisses and stops entirely. His thighs burn from the effort of keeping himself from pressing all of his weight onto Carlos. The temptation to thrust deep into Carlos' mouth with abandon would be too much if he did. The thought sends a fresh surge of need through Cecil.

Cecil looks down rather than do any of that. Carlos watches him with heavy lidded and hazy eyes. There’s only enough give for Carlos to keep his lips partially folded over his teeth. No hand squeezes Cecil’s leg, and Carlos lay prone and still. Even so, uneasiness pricks at the corners of Cecil’s lust addled consciousness.

“Carlos?” Cecil sounds high and strained. He tries to speak without his breath hitching every five seconds and doesn’t quite succeed. “My most dear Carlos, ah - this is d-deeper than we’ve gone before. I need to know and of course no answer is wrong, I --”

Cecil never finishes the sentence. Carlos hollows his cheeks and _sucks_. Cecil makes a nearly inhuman noise, the keen echoing in the otherwise silent room. Carlos even drops his hands from Cecil’s flesh to clench at the cushion and window seat. Cecil whimpers. Carlos is lovely and Cecil without a single thought in his head that isn't centered on the ma below him. Later, Cecil knows he’ll be ashamed at the involuntary twitch of his hips against Carlos’ hot mouth. Carlos’ nostrils flare and he breathes in deep. Cecil tries to remember if he’s seen Carlos open his mouth so wide before and a purring little voice murmurs in his head: he must practice.

Carlos relaxes his throat and returns his hands to Cecil’s thighs and ass. No grip, no scratches, and Cecil leans in for more weight on his lover. He watches the blush on Carlos’ cheeks make his freckles disappear against dark skin. Carlos moans around Cecil’s cock and all Cecil can do is swear and flex his fingers.

Despite his wants, Cecil moves slow, so very slow. He arches over Carlos’ shoulders and head when he slides in fully. Carlos’ blunt nose presses flush against Cecil’s pubic hair.

“ _Carlos_ ,” Cecil flexes his fingers, dark eyes shut tight. Under him, Carlos whimpers and trembles, the soft noises of pleasure a constant stream of involuntary stimulation “Oh, _Carlos_. Good, sweet, precious Carlos, you are so good.” Cecil moves his hips in an experimental pattern: a press down for pressure, grind in and rub harder on Carlos without pulling out, pause to wait for the tell-tale gag of a Carlos pushed too far. Carlos only breathes when Cecil rolls closer and groans once he breathes after the push of bony hips on his throat and shoulders. Cecil moves again, half distracted by the touch of chemical roughened hands on his own soft skin. Carlos keeps them still and his beautiful eyes shut.

Cecil gives in when he hears - feels - Carlos’ breathing pick up. He thrusts harder, a little faster, and growls into his fist.

“Touch yourself, love,” Cecil mutters from around fierce clawed fingers. “Rough, hips still. I want to feel you come apart under me.”

Carlos uses his left hand. His right is stronger and the best to use as a signal to stop if he needs to. Cecil embraces the sound of Carlo’ hand on his uncut cock, slick with precum. Carlos keeps making noise around Cecils cock, the strength of them intensifying at every strong thrust.

The scientists hand motions become erratic after a few minutes, his lashes fluttering in sign of impending orgasm. Cecil grits his teeth and there is the shift to Carlos’ jaw and -- Cecil pulls out and ignores the low sound of loss from his lover. Cecil wants nothing more than to ride Carlos’ tongue in his ass but without a morning shower, he goes with the next best option. He grabs the others curling hair and rubs his dick against Carlos’ cheek. Carlos turns his face to moan against Cecil’s spit wet cock, his breath heavy and hot. Cecil digs his nails in and pulls at the black and gray strands hard enough to jerk Carlos’ head back.

Carlos’ orgasm is instantaneous - his wide body arches and his jaw clenches in pleasure. Cecil hums in appreciation and keeps his grip through the shaking, muscle tightening beauty of his own orgasm. Carlos wheezes, his dark eyes open and watching Cecil with chapped parted lips.

“That won’t wash out easily, will it?” Cecil says after several long moments, his voice rough even to his own ears. He pulls his sticky hand away from Carlos’ hair and makes a face. Carlos laughs breathlessly but stays otherwise quiet outside of a deep, rasping breath as Cecil eases his weight up.

Cecil maneuvers off of the windowsill. A cramp pulls at his thigh and the rest of him shakes with residual adrenaline and crowning exhaustion. Cecil only strokes back a stray strand of Carlos' hair with his clean hand. He loosens the ribbon enough for Carlos to breathe, ignoring the sticky tug of cloth on his fingers. Cecil watches his dark chest rise and fall for a second before he slips away.

Carlos stays on the sill. He keeps his hand on his softened cock and the other hand ghosts to his lips. Carlos says nothing, limp against the wall and window. Cecil returns with a cup of tea and a damp cloth on a small rosewood table. The radio host puts it on Carlos’ night stand. His scientist in question keeps his eyes close and does not look over to a bustling Cecil.

Cecil fusses with the bed - changing sheets and swapping pillows, even tucking the small bloodstone into his own clock table. Only then does he go to Carlos’ side and crouch down, eyes level with the curve of Carlos’ muscular thigh. Cecil watches his lover for a moment before he murmurs, “Carlos, is it alright to touch you now?”

Carlos nods as if he were in a fixed point, slow and silent. Cecil leans up to his knees and strokes his round, warm cheek.

“You are Carlos. I am Cecil. You are my most loved,” Cecil moves closer to kiss a sweat salty shoulder. “I’m going to take you to our bed and take care of you. We are having tea. Is that okay?”

Carlos nods again. He pushes his head against Cecil’s tender pets. “Crystal.” Cecil stands and helps Carlos stands, wrapping an arm around Carlos’ waist. He nuzzles whatever he can reach and leads his Carlos to the bed.

All the while, Cecil speaks in a low murmur not unlike his radio voice and tender enough so it is only for Carlos. “You listened so well. Thank you, Carlos. You told me just what you wanted, this was a beautiful gift. You’re so good. I brought out the sheets and pillows. Sit up, darling, that’s wonderful.”

They climb into bed. Cecil settles back against the pillows on Carlos’ side, his long legs spread. Carlos sits between them and leans against Cecil’s chest. Cecil strokes his Adams apple. Carlos slides down so the back of his head lay heavy on Cecil’s sternum.

“I’m going to clean you up.” Cecil waits for Carlos’ small nod. He snags the towel from the tray and starts to tidy all of his Carlos. Cecil starts at his eyes and cheeks, ghosting the soft cloth over Carlos’ lips in the same pattern as the others fingers had. Carlos' wide chest and muscular arms followed, each slow stroke loving and full of purpose. Cecil cleans the sticky mess off of his stomach last even if it takes firmer touches. Cecil ignores his hair. Carlos hates his hair being touched when he drops. “Tea?”

Another nod, this time an ‘mm’ mixing in. Cecil exchanges cloth for the mug of tea, the green kind Carlos says reminds him of Cecil. It smells of the desert in the spring, Carlos once said. Cecil remembers it each time he brews a cup. Cecil curls his arms around Carlos’ shoulders and holds the mug to his lips with one hand. Carlos sips and Cecil unties the ribbon entirely with the bob of Carlos’ throat.

Gulping, Cecil thinks idly. He watches the ribbon flutter to the curve of Carlos’ collarbone and then sets it aside onto the bed.

“I think of you when I make tea,” Cecil says. He freezes, their script for aftercare no longer in use. Carlos stills and tilts his head. Cecil keeps going, urged on by Carlos’ silence. “You said once? You said, you know, you thought it felt like me. So when I make it, I always think of you thinking of me.”

Cecil flattens his free hand on Carlos’ sternum. The tea mug does not tremble. Carlos leans his head back onto Cecil’s shoulder. He looks up at Cecil, the shine of lust gone and the haze of post Scene turned calm.

Cecil looks at Carlos strong hand on the mug. “Sometimes I make it when you work late. I sit on the couch with your pillow and watch movies we just finished. I don’t even drink it half the time.”

He looks at Carlos. His lovely scientist slides his hand up to hold Cecil’s to his chest. “Is that-” He grimaces, just a flinch, and Cecil puts the tea to his lips. Carlos drinks for a moment before he continues in a sex-rough voice. “Is that why we have bags of brown ice cubes?”

Cecil grins even while his cheeks heat. Carlos huffs in amusement and shows no irritation at the duck of Cecil’s head or to the dry lips on his forehead.

“I use them when I make our cold tea for the desert dates,” he mumbles. “No watering down? It’s, ah… super tea?”

“Ahhh,” says Carlos, his voice soft but fond. “Super tea. Of course.”

“It’s very scientific.”

Carlos smiles. Cecil feels the flutter of his lashes. “It’s only guessing unless you write it down.”

“The City Council may disapprove.”

The hand over Cecil’s rubs at his knuckles, the calloused pads of his fingers scratching. “If… if you come by the lab with some, we can test it. I’ll write it. Special permission.”

“... That would be lovely.”

“On one of the nights I work late.” Carlos says. He burrows closer to Cecil, who is quite sure his heart literally skips a beat. Carlos squeezes his hand. Just once. Just gently.

Cecil lifts the mug, Carlos warm under his palm from tea, and he takes a drink. Cecil isn’t a fan of green tea but for desert dates, he is willing to drink  _oolong_.

“You are so good for me,” Cecil says with his voice to the bright pink ceramic. Carlos sighs, the soft breath relaxed and pleased to the return of their script. Cecil holds Carlos tighter to him and draws a knee up, covers and all. Clean sheets puddle over their laps. Cecil keeps the cup on Carlos’ stomach now, their hands gliding from chest to collarbone. Carlos’ pulse jumps. The scientist reclines bonelessly. “Carlos, my Carlos. We are going to stay in bed for my day off. We’ll drink tea. I’m going to take such good care of you, just like you do for me. May I take care of you?"

Cecil loves the chase. Carlos is his thrill and his consent a high. It’s all Cecil needs.

Carlos nods and says in a whisper full of love: “Crystal.”


End file.
